


Hey Siri, Is it wierd to be attracted to the War Criminal?

by skullgrunt



Category: Splatoon
Genre: F/F, ITS SORTA 24???, and lesbians, can you tell i like plants, i guess??, i just wish to draw and write silly things, im a simple gay, n like. stuff overtaken by nature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 03:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20146693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skullgrunt/pseuds/skullgrunt
Summary: What happens when a young Octarian ends up encountering the most wanted criminal in Octarian society? Wierd, fluttery and confused feelings, I suppose.





	Hey Siri, Is it wierd to be attracted to the War Criminal?

No one _tells_ you you’re supposed to show up on time for Soldier practice! What was an Octarian supposed to take from ‘Show up to soldier practice at unspecified time that she couldn’t quite remember!’ Geez! 

And like hell she was staying in the barracks for a time out, _fuck_ that. This fifteen year old had places to be, specifically a place where she shouldn’t be but that didn’t matter as long as people didn’t specifically find out, right? 

It was difficult to say if this specific Octoling really fitted into the military system, it’d been a few years since she was separated from her carer and things had only seemed to tumble downhill face first, but this Octoling was _all_ about optimism! So she was sure it’d be fine! 

Most referred to this curious Cephalopod as “trip-up” or “disaster” due to her… less than orderly ways about going about things, usually by her podmates and pod leader. Which was odd, but also made her feel very special! No one else got neat nicknames like she did! 

Technically her captain should be referring to her as ‘L-5331’, but if she was honest she’d take the harsh nicknames over some numerical jibber jabber any day of the week. The real goal? Was to get her commander to call her just ‘trip’ instead of ‘trip-up’ Had a much shorter, easier ring to it! But! Today was not that day! 

Though, never mind all that negativity, she had a place to be! And quickly too! If she wasn’t back to the barracks before a certain time then…hoo- boy. Let’s just say her commander would REALLY not be happy with that, more unhappy than she already was with her more or less flaking out on training. 

As sneaky as a lanky ass Octarian could be across metal gratings, she snuck across the outside plane to reach a specific spot, something nobody would NEVER go into willingly, unless you were a curious fool. Tinted claw tips wrapped around the grate of the kettle that lay in front of her, vines and all kinds of flora curling around the rusted metal. Some would argue what a waste of good technology that was, falling prey to greenery, she couldn’t disagree more. 

Everything was inside kettle structures, meaning no proper plants. There _was_ tiny rumours that slipped past that the still-in-construction Octarian capital was going to have homes for everyone that had actual _plants!_ Oh how she hoped that was true! Brushing a few pieces of the entrance, swapping to her smaller form and slipping through the grate with a loud ‘plop’ sound was the most unpleasant part about this. Rusted kettle gates never left one feeling clean, after all. 

But! Ah but!!! The worst part was now over, done with, gone! And she was now in her little hideaway home. An abandoned kettle overrun with plant life, what more could you actually ask for. Hitting the ground with a soft noise, glad the moss was there to break her fall, the soldier glanced up as a flutter of butterflies just rose up from the sudden disturbance. A soft sorry passes her lips as she pushes herself up onto her feet. 

The light was slightly dim, but that was to be expected from kettles, it gave off a gentle orange glow from where the sun was filtering in through the bars. Quickly finding herself a good spot beneath some shade to sit and cross her legs, regain her thoughts for just a little moment. It was hard to find time to do things like this, training this and schedules that… Sometimes a girl just wants to sit back and get lost in the sounds of the closest thing she has to the outside world. 

Her mind began to wander to the usual places, places where she could just be herself, didn’t have to wear 14 thousand belts and heels. A place like this kettle, but _bigger_ and _brighter._ Where she could run! Barefoot! Without having to worry about getting snapped at, for just miles upon miles without ever stopping. 

Birds, something _**other**_ than seagulls soar above her, casting shapes upon the grass. Would there be flowers there? Oh, who was she _kidding_ of COURSE there was going to be flowers there! All kinds! Kinds she couldn’t even think of and oh uh. What next! Trees! Oh yes trees! And loud, creaking sounds that were making goosebumps cover her arms and- What?

Startled out of her daydream, the Octarian shot upwards, darting into some nearby flora to hide herself for the moment. Had her commander found her? Oh _shoot_ she wasn’t wearing her goggles… Oh _fuck._ She was so gonna get yelled at. 

The sudden realisation that she was never going to be able to come here for alone time again was starting to hit her pretty damn hard, mouth shifting to a small ‘o’ shape as her brows shifted upwards, displaying distress and concern over the current matter. Claws tacking together as she wonders what to do, hide? Run? Gun for the exit? 

“A-Ah. S-Shit!” 

Huh. That. Sure wasn’t the voice of her commander. 

Taking a cautious glance around her hiding bush, she squints, there _sure_ is someone there but whatever they were wearing it was reflecting the sunlight _horribly_. Curiosity was gripping the poor Octarian more than fear was at this point, who had found her hidey hole! 

“Cod… damn it I thought this would be like. A super secret base or somethin’.. Not just a big stupid greenery.” 

Said mysterious stranger had finally stepped forward, pausing for a moment to grimace at the sound and feeling of moss against their very fancy looking shoes. The soldier could get a much better glance at them now that their funky outfit wasn’t acting like some kind of recently polished armour plate! 

Oh! Green! Green like everything else here look at that! Who was this green person and how did they manage to get past colour protocol! Oh how she _wished_ to be a pinky shade like she used to be! Oh! Strangers on the move again.

Keeping her head low, while still trying to get a good look, she managed to spot a dark black close to their green hair with some little specks of blue,hmn! Why was that so familiar? Trailing down there was, once again, black and then yellow and silver. Same with the shoes. If a lightbulb could somehow manifest above her head, it absolutely would have a few seconds later, and good thing that couldn’t happen too! Or she would’ve been caught! 

She remembered that outfit, those tentacles, that face now! That’s the war criminal!

…

Oh _Fuck_ its the war criminal.

Here she was. Stuck in an abandoned dome without her stupid weapon and now Agent Three of all the people in the world showed up! Her commander finding her was suddenly seemingly a lot more pleasant. 

Oh, she was so dead, oh she was so fucking dead. All those stories, all the warnings of how ruthless and uncaring this person could be! If she was spotted she’d be a stain on the ground and nothing more for the rest of time! 

“F-Fuck!” 

The train of thought had come to a halt and thinking station as she watched the other suddenly trip and stumble, nearly falling flat on her face before regaining her balance. A confused look coating her features… that didn’t _seem_ very professional… 

If the soldier was being honest, this was _not_ their first meeting, but that didn't mean how it ended last time didn't leave her more catious of the wanted criminal... She highly doubted an encounter like this was going to be anything similar to the time in the warehouse.

As the Agent drew near, she kept herself low to the ground, knowing her armour would be covered in dirt and leaves but like that was really what she was thinking right now, her hearts all going a mile a minute as the crunch of her shoes beneath all of the flora got closer, peaked, and then faded as the other walked past. 

There was an odd… sense of inner turmoil as she watched the other venture inwards a little more. Curiosity was gnawing her ankles in the worst, most _frustrating_ kind of way. Was this really Agent Three? Her look matched the descriptions and pictures on the poster… 

Maybe the Octarian government had it wrong? SURELY not… That gnawing little bud of curiosity had suddenly bloomed into a real dangerous flower. Taking a soft breath, she shifted a little, trying to make as little noise as possible as her pursuit began! 

The Agent didn’t do much, if she was honest, looking around and stumbling over vines wasn’t exactly the most interesting to her. She seemed to dislike wildlife as much as her peers too… disappointing to say the least. Silly War Criminal, the butterflies are attracted to your big bright jacket because its yellow! Maybe don’t wear yellow next time you come down here! 

Deeper and deeper the two ventured into the collapsed kettle, the light from the bars getting further and further. The more the soldier watched this Inkling stumble and trip her way through checking everything out, the more became clear to her that… Agent Three surely wasn’t any kind of threat, right? I mean. She’d tripped over three different kinds of vines now. Aside from the sudden realisation that their so called dangerous war criminal seemed like kind of a dumbass… She was. _REALLY_ cute. Round, very short it seemed. Her outfit seemed a little too baggy for her, and was trailing over her fingers and covered part of her face. 

Yet, the soldier knew better than to approach someone that was considered a threat, even with her docile seemingly aloof nature, that weapon attached to her hip… her teeth. Anything could be used against her, so keeping her distance was key… It was a tad hard to keep focus when there _was_ a cute girl aimlessly wandering around in here though. 

Her thoughts had began to drift, odd voices in her head making themselves loud and clear:

‘Turn her in! You’ll finally get praise from your pod commander, people will want to talk to you! You’ll be famous!’

‘Okay but, They could do the same thing they do to you to her, but WAYYY fucking worse. They might not even give her any sort of meals, what if they put her in an even smaller time out room… She’s wanted. Do you want her to suffer like you have?’

‘... Fair point’

Nearing closer in the darkness, with her mind so foggy with questions, the Octoling flinched as a loud snap was heard beneath her boots. 

The world seemed to slow to a steady halt as her biolum lit up in surprise. It was already giving off a dull glow from being away from the light but now that she wasn’t trying to monitor it she was lighting up the place like a disco ball. And unfortunately, Agent Three’s hearing seemed to be intact as her ears shot up. 

She turned slowly, ears slowly flattening as the realisation that someone else might be here with her in this very kettle was creeping up. The sound of moss and leaves crunching beneath her shoes was all that filled the silence as she turned, spotting nothing but the soft pink glowing circles, complemented with some harsh light blues and finally. The breathtaking, piercing orange eyes that stood out like car headlights.

She swallowed audible, her mouth slightly agape as her breathing quickened.

“Uh…”

Silence. A bead of sweat ran down the Agent’s face as she straighted herself, a voice screaming in the back of her head questioning why on earth this was so fucking familiar.

“H-HEY. I can see you! You’re not. Hiding very well! I’m not uh-” 

The Octarian tilted her head curiously, blinking a few times.

“I ain’t stupid! You better uh- Y-You better get the fuck outta here or-” 

A wandering eye followed her hand motions down to grip the base of her weapon, several alarm bells ringing in her ears at once at the sight.

An act of panic is what she’d class it later, reaching down to grab whatever she could find, a handful of moss, a twig, whatever it could be. The soldier landed herself a hefty pebble, tossing it at the other before bolting through the trees and leaves, slashing at plant life to get the exit. 

The angry shouts and calls to her was all she could hear as she reached the spot beneath the grate, shifting into her small form to fling herself upwards towards the exit. Claw marks were left on the ground as she scrambled to get herself out and away from the kettle. Panting and heaving once she finally stops, a good ways away from their meeting place. 

It’s not everyday you run into a war criminal… and survive. As she started to track back to her barrack, questions swirled in her mind. Not even questions she could ask. But she knew one thing for sure.

Agent Three had no right to be that cute looking.


End file.
